


sometimes stealth isn’t an option

by Rimetin



Series: Fallen Hero: odds and ends [2]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Rescue, Rooftop Escape, falling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rimetin/pseuds/Rimetin
Summary: “Herald…“ You weigh your options. You can wait around to get shot, or…“Almost there!““Catch you on the way down!“ You yank out the earpiece - you’re not about to listen to the objections - and roll out of your cover into a sprinting jump.Right off the roof.Sidestep helps the Rangers, rolls nat 1 on stealth rolls, and makes questionable decisions during the daring escape.Originally postedon tumblr.





	sometimes stealth isn’t an option

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: Please, I need a Herald/Sidestep scene with Herald catching the MC falling from a building.
> 
> You said falling, I may have opted for jumping. Aka. the time I learned physics for the sake of fanfiction. (Or more accurate pestered a friend into telling me about inertia.)
> 
> I don't know the context to this, I just make single scenes work for me. Maybe I'll work it out sometime. Sorry it ends abruptly, I just... ran out of juice.

 

You kick the door open and stumble up the stairs, grabbing at the railing for balance. The heavy door falls back shut behind you and you’re already a floor up when you hear it open again, multiple minds and voices flooding the stairwell. They’re all shouting over each other and you don’t understand any of it, half because of the chaos and echo and half because it’s, what’s that, a slavic language? Russian? Polish? You never learned any of those. No use for it, they thought.

Shows what they knew.

You keep pushing up, sensing from their half obscured thoughts that they can’t tell where your footsteps are coming from, but aren’t giving up the chase. You hope they don’t have anyone smart enough to try to cut off your escape higher up.

Your head is bursting with the cacophony of echoing footsteps, angry shouting, and your blood rushing in your ears. Not to mention the hostile mental imprints you don’t have time or energy to make sense of. 

Your earpiece crackles to life with Herald’s voice, making you nearly miss a step and tumble down, but you catch yourself. You regret agreeing to this. Hell, you regret ever associating with the Rangers. 

“Not now,“ you gasp, and thankfully he listens. You don’t have time to explain the shit you’re in right now.

You crash into the roof access door shoulder first and somehow manage to keep your balance as you burst out. Mostly. You skid to a halt and look frantically for anything to block the door with, but the rooftop is empty. Damn.

You stalk over to the far side of the roof, keeping your eyes on the door and your mind’s eye on the rapidly approaching hostile imprints. “Herald?”

The response is almost instant. “Here. Where are you?“

“On the roof.“ You peer over the edge and immediately step back, vertigo threatening to overtake you and worried a gust of wind might send you tumbling over. “Ran into some trouble.“

“What happened? Ortega said the whole place went into chaos.“

“Look, sometimes stealth isn’t an option.“ You squint, trying to find Herald with your eyes, since your mind isn’t having any luck. “I need a lift.“ You jump as the door behind you crashes open, four men rushing out. “Like, five minutes ago!“

“On my way. Stay put.“

“Yeah, not an option.“ You drop into a pre-emptive roll seeing two of the men drawing their guns, presenting as small as possible when you dash for cover. A few bullets fly your way, but miss by miles. “How far out are you?“

“Not far, just– hold on, ok?“

“ _Hold on,_ ” you grumble, peering over your cover. Easy for him to say. You’re about to get surrounded and made into Swiss cheese.

Fitting that working with the Rangers again would end up getting you killed.

“Herald…“ You weigh your options. You can wait around to get shot, or…

“Almost there!“

“Catch you on the way down!“ You yank out the earpiece - you’re not about to listen to the objections - and roll out of your cover into a sprinting jump.

Right off the roof.

You try not to remember the way the breaking glass felt against your face the last time you jumped off a building. The moment of nothing around you followed by the rushing wind is frighteningly familiar and you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see the ground rushing to meet you. The way down is much longer this time.

You  spread your arms and legs, fighting the rising panic. You’re an idiot. You had much better chances on the roof. You can still be Sidestep, if not in name. Four against one isn’t impossible odds, with air support on the way. Why would you trust Herald to catch you? 

Except  if you didn’t, would you trust him to help you on the roof either? 

Shit, you’re going to die. 

You really are going to. You’ll end up a smear on the pavement and this time Ortega will have to bury you for real - if they care to, after seeing your remains, and the secrets you’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. If your remains aren’t confiscated and sent back to the farm. You’ll crash and burn and fail like you’ve always done, as a villain, as a friend, as a hero, and worst of all you’ll lose your idol  _again_  and be the one responsible for their death–

Wait. That last one wasn’t your thought.

On instinct, you almost fight the arms that wrap around you before registering the mind they’re attached to - the mind the thought came from. Herald pulls you close and holds you to his chest as he rights your dive, turning a deadly descent into an upwards slope. His form is rigid, concentrated, but his mind is a mess. You pull back to not get swallowed by it, your own thoughts overwhelming enough. 

You’re safe. You didn’t die. 

You’re not going to die.

You draw in a shaky breath, not sure if it’s your own heart you feel hammering, or Herald’s. Probably both. 

He floats over to a nearby roof and sets you down. He’s about to let go, but holds you up as your knees buckle. You can’t muster up the energy to be annoyed about that.

“…thanks,“ you finally manage after a few deep breaths. The vertigo is fading. You might even be able to walk in a few hours.

With your mind so busy looking inward, you’re not prepared for the outburst that comes next.

“What the hell were you thinking?“

You blink. “Wh–“

He interrupts you, face contorted and fingers digging into your arms where his hands are holding you up. “You could’ve died! You almost did - I almost didn’t make it!“

You exhale, raising a hand to pat his arm. “But you did. It’s fine.“

“It’s not fine!“ The emotions radiating from him are making your head hurt. Combined with the lingering feeling in your stomach you feel like throwing up. Herald doesn’t seem to notice. “I told you I wasn’t ready! Why didn’t you stay on the roof?“

So dizzy. You grimace. “Because I had four armed guys after me. Look, it happened, it’s past, can we–“

“You’re Sidestep!“ The name stings like that time Lady Fortuna shot a nail gun through your hands and left you crucified for Ortega to find. You still have the scars, both on your hands and your ego. “You could’ve– I could’ve lost you!”

You shove him away, stumbling back a few steps. You double over, leaning your hands on your knees. The anger in Herald quiets and worry surges. Concern. Guilt.

You feel sick.

He steps forward and opens his mouth, but you hold up a hand to hush him. You draw a few deep breaths and look up at him. “Can we just… go?“

He looks you over, unsure. After a moment he nods. “Of course.“


End file.
